Chapter Text
Champagne bubbled like liquid gold in crystal flutes. Laughter floated through the chandeliers—elegant, calculated, never too loud. Every movement in this ballroom was rehearsed, every smile sharpened with intent. Nothing in a room this wealthy was ever accidental. Rich people loved throwing parties that pretended to be effortless—crystal chandeliers, soft jazz masking the tension underneath. Ricky had been walking through these kinds of rooms since he was a child, but tonight felt different.
Ricky adjusted the cuff of his dark suit, expression cold and practiced. He hated these parties. Too many eyes, too many whispers, too much attention he never asked for but could never fully escape.
“The prodigal heir finally arrives,” Hao murmured beside him, voice dry with amusement as he passed Ricky a glass.
“Please,” Ricky muttered. “If I disappear for five seconds, half these people will call a search party.”
“That’s because their parents told them you’re one career move away from owning the country.”
“Great,” Ricky said flatly. “Exactly what I want. More brats with trust funds breathing down my neck.”
Hao snorted. “Try to survive until dessert.”
But Ricky wasn’t listening anymore.
Because across the room—
surrounded by a small constellation of admirers—
stood Kim Gyuvin
He looked taller. Broader. Sharper.
His suit was perfectly tailored, the soft black fabric flowing around him like quiet wealth. His hair, tousled with a soft little curls at the front, gave him an effortlessly sexy kind of charm—the type you notice before he even speaks. He was laughing at something, his voice deep and smooth, the kind that made people lean closer.
And yet—
Something about him was… distant.
Like the light reached him but couldn’t touch him.
Ricky’s stomach twisted painfully.
Hao noticed immediately.
“You sure you’re ready to see him?”
“No,” Ricky whispered. “But I need to.”
He placed his drink down and crossed the ballroom, each step heavy, each breath tight. People parted for him automatically, the way they always did—bowing slightly, murmuring greetings, eyes following him like he was a headline waiting to happen.
Finally—
he reached Gyuvin.
“Gyuvin,” Ricky said, voice steady despite the tremor in his chest.
Gyuvin didn’t turn.
Ricky tried again, softer. “Gyuv.”
The other boy’s jaw tightened—barely. But he still didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t react in the slightest.
Like Ricky wasn’t someone from his past.
Like Ricky wasn’t anyone at all.
A girl beside Gyuvin whispered, “Is he ignoring the DNA heir?”
Another muttered, “God, the tension—”
Ricky clenched his teeth.
“Gyuvin,” he said again, firmer.
This time Gyuvin lifted his head slightly, but the look he gave Ricky wasn’t recognition.
It was… nothing.
Absolute nothing.
A polite, empty mask.
“Oh,” Gyuvin said carefully, voice smooth but hollow. “Hello.”
Just “hello.”
Like they were strangers.
No flicker of memory.
No warmth.
No pain.
No anger.
Ricky’s chest ached.
“You—you didn’t see me earlier?” Ricky asked, hating how small the question felt.
Gyuvin tilted his head, confusion crossing his features for a split second—too quick, too practiced.
“No,” he said simply.
Someone else chimed in cheerfully, “Gyuvin has been out of the country for so long—he probably forgot half of us!”
Gyuvin smiled politely at them.
But that smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Deeply wrong.
Hao appeared at Ricky’s shoulder and squeezed his arm slightly. “Rik, let’s go—”
“No,” Ricky murmured, eyes glued to Gyuvin. “He looked at me like I’m… no one.”
Hao’s brows pulled together. “Maybe he’s pretending.”
Ricky shook his head.
“No. It felt… empty.”
Gyuvin excused himself from the group, walking toward their parents, posture straight and expression unreadable.
Ricky’s lungs tightened.
“Something’s off,” he whispered. “That’s not—he’s not—”
“Not the Gyuvin you knew?” Hao finished.
Ricky swallowed hard.
“No,” he whispered.
“He felt like a stranger wearing his face.”
Ricky watched Gyuvin walk away, moving toward the cluster of parents dressed in old money and older secrets. His father’s voice floated across the room—smooth, calculated, every word a negotiation disguised as small talk.
“You’ve done well abroad, Gyuvin. Your return is… timely,” Mr. Kim said, smiling though his eyes were sharp.
Ricky’s own father, the CEO of Dominus National Assets, nodded approvingly. “Yes. With your experience and your family’s network, our partnership will be mutually beneficial.”
Partnership.
Alliance.
Strategy.
Everything but human.
Gyuvin stood among them like a polished statue—beautiful, refined, empty. His hands clasped behind his back, posture perfect, expression unreadable. When the parents spoke, he nodded once or twice, like he had rehearsed being alive but hadn’t quite mastered feeling.
Ricky watched from a distance, something tight and uneasy forming in his throat.
This isn’t right.
Gyuvin wasn’t just distant—
He was wrong.
And wrong always pulled Ricky in like gravity.
So he followed.
Not out of recklessness.
But out of instinct—
the same instinct that had once memorized every shift in Gyuvin’s voice, every flicker of his smile.
The night air hit him as he stepped into the garden—cold, crisp, unnaturally still. Lanterns flickered softly, casting gold shadows over trimmed bushes and a marble walkway. Classical music hummed faintly from the speakers, muffled through the tall glass doors.
Ricky found Gyuvin standing in front of a flower bed—white lilies glowing under the moonlight. Beside them stood an angel statue, carved with delicate wings and downcast eyes. Its expression was serene, but in the dim light, it almost looked mournful.
Gyuvin wasn’t moving.
Not breathing normally.
Just… staring.
Ricky approached cautiously.
“Gyuvin?”
No response.
“Gyuv?”
Gyuvin’s fingers twitched—just barely.
“Hey…” Ricky tried again, softer. “Talk to me.”
Slowly—too slowly—Gyuvin turned his head.
And his entire expression shifted.
The emptiness vanished, replaced by something alive, intense, and disconcertingly sharp. His eyes darkened, as if the pupils swallowed the color. His posture changed too—no longer stiff or polite, but coiled, predatory, like someone else stepped into his body.
Someone who knew Ricky.
Someone who remembered him far too well.
Ricky’s breath caught.
“Gyuv?” he whispered.
Gyuvin didn’t answer.
He grabbed Ricky’s face suddenly, pulling him into a kiss so harsh Ricky tasted blood instantly. His lip stung, the metallic tang flooding his tongue.
Ricky gasped, breath breaking.
“W–wait—Gyuv—”
He tried to pull back.
Gyuvin didn’t let him.
His grip tightened, fingers digging into Ricky’s jaw, forcing him closer. His breathing was uneven—almost desperate, almost angry.
This wasn’t passion.
This was something darker.
Ricky’s heart thudded painfully.
A tiny, foolish piece of hope tried to surface—
Is this him? Is he remembering?
But hope shattered quickly when Gyuvin leaned in again, voice low, rough, and unfamiliar.
“Rik…”
The way he said his name—
It wasn’t tenderness.
It was possession.
Ricky’s knees weakened.
“Gyuv, stop—please—we need to talk,” Ricky pleaded, but Gyuvin’s hand clamped around his wrist, hard enough to bruise.
“Come,” Gyuvin said.
Not a request.
Not a question.
A command.
He tugged Ricky toward the parking area behind the garden, walking fast, almost dragging him.
“Gyuv—slow down, you’re hurting me,” Ricky said breathlessly.
Gyuvin didn’t look back.
Didn’t loosen his grip.
Didn’t say a single word.
He only guided Ricky—no, pulled him—straight toward an all-black luxury sedan parked in the shadows. Quiet luxury, understated and expensive as hell.
The car door opened.
Ricky hesitated.
“Where are we even going?”
Gyuvin finally looked at him—eyes glowing too dark, too deep, too… wrong.
“Home,” he said simply.
But it didn’t sound like nostalgia.
It sounded like a threat dressed as a promise.
Ricky swallowed hard, pulse hammering, but he climbed into the car anyway.
Because the part of him that feared Gyuvin…
…was the same part that never stopped loving him.
The steel door slid open with a hiss.
A breath of warm, sweet air washed over Rik. The mansion looks polished like how Gyuvin shows himself to be.
Gyuvin didn’t speak.
He only dragged Rik down the stairs to what Rik assumes, a basement, each step echoing hollowly. He pressed his pointer finger to scan, and the red double doors, embellished with lavish padded diamonds, creaked open slowly, as if inviting him into the very corners of hell. The walls closed in like a living thing, the dim light flickering across the metal railing, stretching their shadows long and strange.
At the bottom, Rik’s stomach flipped.
The room was… red.
Every wall, every pillar, every corner painted deep crimson.
The lights glinted off steel chains hanging from the ceiling.
Leather straps and cuffs adorned polished racks.
The faint metallic scent of tools mingled with chocolate, creating an atmosphere that was almost intoxicatingly wrong.
Rik swallowed hard.
“This… this is your—?”
Gyuvin didn’t answer.
He didn’t even look at him.
He stepped into the center of the room and turned slowly, letting the faint light catch his expression.
Rik’s pulse hammered.
Something about the way he looked—calm, almost amused, yet unreadable—made Rik feel like he was standing inside someone else’s memory. Or perhaps, someone else’s mind.
The chocolate scent grew stronger as Rik’s senses strained.
It should have been comforting.
It wasn’t.
Gyuvin’s hand brushed against Rik’s jaw.
Soft. Gentle. Precise.
Rik shivered.
“Gyuvin… why did you bring me here?”
Gyuvin finally spoke, voice low, almost purring:
“Because we never finished… what we started.”
Rik’s eyes darted to the walls, the chains, the cuffs.
“This isn’t… I don’t understand. What is this place?”
Gyuvin’s smile widened, slow and deliberate.
“I like to keep things… prepared.”
There was no warmth in it. No malice either—just a quiet, unsettling calm that made Rik’s stomach tighten.
The chocolate smell hit him again.
The room wasn’t just red—it felt alive.
Watching. Judging. Waiting.
Gyuvin stepped closer, his eyes dark, unreadable.
Every movement was careful, controlled—but sharp enough to make Rik flinch.
Rik’s voice shook:
“Gyuvin… can we just talk? Please. About… before…”
Gyuvin leaned in, close enough that Rik could feel his breath.
“I’m listening,” he whispered.
But the room, the chains, the chocolate, the crimson walls—it all whispered something else.
Something dangerous.
Something Rik couldn’t yet name.
Rik swallowed hard, trying to hold onto the part of him that still believed in the boy he once knew.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt fear.
Pure, unrelenting fear.
Rik’s hands shook as he looked around the crimson room, the chocolate scent filling every corner of his lungs. Chains glinted under the dim lights. Leather straps swayed slightly as if moved by some invisible breath. The space felt alive, it's scaring the shit out of Ricky but the fact that Gyuvin is there calms him down in a very twisted way too.
Gyuvin didn’t move. He stood a few steps away, calm, almost too calm. His eyes were dark—glossy, unreadable, like black mirrors reflecting Rik’s own panic.
“I—Gyuvin… I need to know,” Rik said, voice trembling. “Why are you doing this? Why bring me here?”
Gyuvin tilted his head, studying him. Slowly. Deliberately.
“You followed me here,” he said softly, almost amused. “Why? Curiosity? Regret? Or just… old habits?”
Rik swallowed. “I wanted to… talk. About us. About before. I need answers.”
Gyuvin’s lips curved into a faint, unsettling smile. “Answers?” He took a step closer. “Do you really think answers matter here?”
Rik tried to step back, but Gyuvin’s presence pressed on him like gravity. Every movement he made seemed calculated, precise, designed to corner him—not physically, but mentally.
“You… you’re scaring me,” Rik admitted, voice breaking slightly. “Gyuvin, please… we can just talk. Nothing else.”
Gyuvin’s hand brushed against Rik’s jaw—soft. Gentle. And for a moment, Rik almost believed it was the boy he loved. Almost.
Then Gyuvin leaned in, closer than necessary, and whispered:
“We’re talking, aren’t we? Right now.”
Rik’s stomach twisted.
Every instinct screamed to run.
Every fragment of his heart whispered don’t leave, don’t look away.
The chains above rattled faintly, and the shadows shifted unnaturally across the red walls. Rik’s eyes darted to them, trying to memorize every angle. Was he imagining movement? Or was the room alive with intent?
Gyuvin stepped around him slowly, circling like a predator, observing reactions. His touch—when it came—was fleeting, almost a tease, brushing the nape of Rik’s neck, fingers grazing the edge of his shoulder.
“Gyuvin…” Rik whispered, voice shaking. “Please… just—why are you like this? Why bring me here?”
Gyuvin’s smile widened, and he let out a soft chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Because we’re not finished. Because there are things you don’t remember… things you didn’t see. And I… I’ve been waiting.”
Rik’s pulse hammered. Fear and confusion clashed violently in his chest. “Waiting… for what?”
Gyuvin leaned in so close that Rik could feel his breath, warm with the faint scent of chocolate. His hand lifted, brushing against the bruised side of Rik’s lip—not rough, but deliberate.
“To see if you’d still come.”
Rik’s knees threatened to give out. Part of him—the foolish, hopeful part—wanted to believe. Wanted to think this was just the boy he loved, teasing him back into old familiarity.
But everything else—the red walls, the chains, the chocolate, the too-perfect silence—screamed otherwise.
Gyuvin stepped back, letting the shadows stretch across him like a cloak.
“Do you remember me?” he asked softly.
Rik’s throat tightened.
“I… I think I do. I think I remember you.”
Gyuvin’s smile darkened imperceptibly. “Good,” he said. “Because soon… you’ll find out how much you really don’t.”
The words hung in the air, heavy, sharp, unsettling.
Rik’s chest heaved. His mind spun. And for the first time in years, he realized something terrifying: the boy he once knew was gone.
And in his place was… something else entirely.
Gathering the remaining courage Ricky has, he finally spoke. “Gyuvin, why are you being like this?” Ricky's voice cracked, tears streaming down his flushed face as he stumbled backward. His heart pounded like a war drum, each beat a countdown to his potential demise. His blood roared in his ears, as he stumbled backward, his legs trembling beneath him. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken threats, each breath he took burning like acid in his lungs.
"You ruined me!" The accusation hung in the air like a guillotine, sharp and deadly. "And now you're playing the fucking victim? After everything you did to me?"
Rik was baffled—he was certain their past encounters had been mutual, consensual even, with Gyuv often taking the lead, his touches once filled with a youthful eagerness.
"You think you're the goddamn victim here? After raping me over and over again?" Words fell from Gyuv's lips like poison, each word a fresh stab in Rik's chest.
Rik tried to flee, but the door was sealed shut, the mechanism hidden, leaving no visible means of escape. His bedroom—his once peaceful sanctuary—had transformed into a chamber of horrors. Chains hung like skeletal fingers from the ceiling, torture devices gleamed menacingly in the shadows, their purpose all too clear. The incongruence between this nightmare and Gyuv's angelic features—the face that once captivated him—was jarring, leaving Rik questioning his own sanity.
"Hmm? Admiring my tools? Want to experience their magic, Rik?" Gyuv's mocking tone cut through Rik like a rusty blade while holding a dagger stepping closer with a predatory grace that made Rik's skin crawl. Sharp. An intent to torment.
A hiccup interrupted Rik's sobs, his breathing shallow and erratic. His composure, usually flawless, had crumbled, leaving him vulnerable and pathetic. Yet amidst the terror, a twisted solace found him: at least his life will end with the man he once loved, the man who now held his life in his hands.
Gyuv seized Rik's wrists with crushing force, the handcuffs snapping shut with a deafening finality. The cold metal bit into Ricky's skin, a promise of the pain to come. He pulled out a blindfold and forced it over Rik's eyes, the fabric rough against his tear-streaked skin, it felt suffocating, absolute.
"No, please, I need to see you..." Rik begged, desperation bleeding into his words. "I want to look into your eyes... please." His voice fractured, the plea dissolving into a guttural sob.
A strong slap cracked across Ricky's face, the impact resounding like a thunderclap in his skull. "How dare you question me!" Gyuv snarled, yanking the blindfold tighter, the fabric rough against Rik's tear-streaked cheeks.
Ricky was carried to what he presumed was a bed, his limbs limp, his mind adrift in a sea of terror. The scent of leather and chocolate assaulted his nostrils, a pungent mix that made his stomach churn with dread. He lay paralyzed, tension coiling through every muscle, unable to move or feel with his bound hands. But then he smelled something burning, a faint stinging scent that grew stronger, making his stomach churn.
Is he going to burn me alive? The thought sent ice flooding his veins. All thoughts interrupted as a searing pain erupted across his skin. "AH, NO PLEASE, IT HURTS!" Rik screamed, thrashing against his restraints, his voice raw, his soul laid bare.
"Such beautiful artwork, baby. Mind if I get a closer look?" Gyuv's voice, once soft and gentle, now dripped with a sadistic glee that made Rik's blood run cold. He heard the sound of fabric tearing, his polo shredded effortlessly by Gyuv's strong hands. The cool air hit his tattoos, a stark contrast to the burning agony that still lingered.
"Ooh, these are fucking sinful. They turn me on so much, I'm already hard." Gyuv's husky murmur towards his ear sent a shiver down Rik's spine, a conflicting surge of arousal mingling with his terror.
Gyuv's tongue traced the outline of Rik's role model tattoo, The wet heat of his mouth left Ricky's skin sticky, hypersensitive. He moved lower, to the tiger tattoo across Rik's torso, licking it with feral intensity, as if he were making out with the tattoo itself. The thought, twisted as it was, ignited a fire within Rik that he couldn't deny, a hunger that clawed at him even as fear threatened to consume him whole.
Then came Gyuvin's favorite—the blindfolded angel. He sucked and licked the delicate lines, blowing cool air across the damp skin afterward, sending shivers down Ricky's spine making his body arch involuntarily. "Hmm... please don't stop, Gyuvin," Rik moaned, the sound erotic, his resolve crumbling under Gyuv's expert touch.
Gyuv unbuckled Rik's straight-cut slacks with agonizing slowness, revealing the growing bulge that strained against the fabric of his boxers. "I've been fantasizing about this," Gyuvin murmured, his breath hot against Rik's sensitive skin. He tossed the slacks aside, leaving only the thin barrier of Rik's underwear. Caressing his aching length through the fabric, he squeezed gently at first, then next with increasing pressure, drawing out pre-cum that soaked through his boxers, a testament to his conflicted desires.
"Hmm baby, I can't take it anymore. I need your cock inside me, please." All came from Ricky's lips, a desperate plea that he couldn't suppress. Gyuv yanked off his boxers with a single, brutal tug, and deep-throated him, his mouth enveloping Rik's length fully, playing with his balls in a rhythm that blurred the lines between pain and pleasure. "I'm so turned on, Kim Gyuvin." I can't believe we're doing this. I've been waiting for you. Rik gasped, his hips bucking slightly despite the restraints, betraying his body's betrayal.
"Mmmm, baby, you taste so good." Gyuv stroked him while sucking his nipples, his free hand roaming Rik's body with practiced ease. "Too bad I have to hurt you." A sharp burn seared Rik's neck, like a branding iron marking him as Gyuv's property.
"F-fuck, that hurts, please stop." Pleasure twisted into tears, the sensation overwhelming, his nerves alight with a confusing mix of agony and arousal.
The burning sensation trailed down his chest, circling his nipple, then hitting his areola. It chilled him—painful yet thrilling, a challenge that made his breath hitch. "Good fucking God. Just fuck me already." No thoughts remained, just the growing burn amplifying his arousal. He realized it was candle wax, dripping molten and scorching, each drop a tiny inferno on his skin. The pain is terrible but somehow it's turning me on.
Gyuvin chuckled darkly. "Even if it hurts, you want more? How horny are you, baby?" He kissed Ricky fiercely, their lips crashing together in a battle of teeth and tongue, while Gyuv sucked, blew air, and waxed on his belly, the heat intensifying with each drop. He shifted down to his Pelvis, he, once again, nipped on it, blew some air to create some shiver due to the sudden cold, and finally pouring some wax. He repeated the ritual on Rik's legs, knees, shins, and feet, tracing every curve and angle as if memorizing him, branding him, owning him. It was torture laced with an unsettling tenderness, a paradox that left Ricky questioning everything he thought he knew about pain, pleasure, and the man who once held his heart.
Does he really care? The question echoed in Ricky's mind, unanswered, even as his body responded to Gyuvin's efforts with a betrayal of its own.
Gyuv removed the blindfold, and Rik blinked rapidly, his vision adjusting to the flickering candlelight that illuminated the room. Gyuv stood before him, fully naked, a whip coiled menacingly in his hand. His expression was untamed, feral—a far cry from the loving puppy Rik once knew.
"What's wrong Rwicky? Cat got your tongue? Do you like what you see?" It echoed their first time—curious teens following a gay porn video in Gyuvin's childhood home, bodies exposed for the first time in Gyuvin's tiny room, Rik getting bottomed out from Gyuv's massive dick in a haze of awkward excitement. That memory flooded back, bittersweet and haunting. The Gyuvin from before is far from the Gyuvin today, this person is rough, dark, and a monster, evolved from a loving puppy into a demon. Scary as it seems, it also is exciting in a way Ricky couldn't deny. He craved any chance to have him again, as messed up as it is.
Gyuvin’s dick was still girthy, still veiny, even bigger than ever, standing proud and intimidating.
"Keep staring and I'll whip your ass." Rik looked down like a servant, his cheeks burning. "Now, kneel." He obeyed hastily on the bed, his knees sinking into the softness, a position of submission that both humiliated and aroused him.
Gyuvin shoved his cock into Rik's throat without warning, the intrusion choking him instantly. Pain made Ricky's eyes water, tears mixing with the effort to breathe. "Yes, baby, your warm mouth feels amazing." Gyuv pounded relentlessly, his hands gripping Rik's hair, holding him in place as he thrust deeper, harder.
Rik couldn't breathe, struggling against his cuffs, his throat raw and protesting. When he protested with muffled sounds, Gyuv whipped him, the lash stinging sharply. "That's for disobeying."
He continued until spent, forcing Rik to swallow every drop, the taste of his cum is sweet and overwhelming. Then, he dragged Rik to the sofa, bending him over the armrest, his body exposed and vulnerable. A collar snapped around his neck, activated with a soft beep. "Scream or make a sound, and see what happens." Ricky didn't even noticed what's in his neck at first, still spent from the constant mouth-fucking.
With no warning, he spanked Ricky hard using a paddle which made him welp in pain. That little reaction made him jolt from the collar Gyuvin put on his neck. A shock collar? Really? Three blows followed, each heavier, sharper, leaving welts that throbbed and burned. Rik fell onto his knees, dizzy, his legs and arms shaking. Gyuv supported him, his touch firm yet unyielding.
He made Ricky stand up again, and by his last spank, Rik became dizzy, his legs and arms were shaking but he supported him so Ricky's body won't crash.
After the hit, he shoved fingers into Rik's mouth, then his hole, the intrusion sudden and rough. "Ahck, p-pease be g-gentle. I-it's been a wh-while." Gyuv ignored him, adding fingers, stretching painfully. He also quickens the pace and made sure that it is rough. Ricky's cries were silent, choked back to avoid the collar. All of these that I've endured for him and he didn't care. Not even once.
Pain numbed him; he cried uncontrollably, his emotions a whirlwind. Gyuv added a doubke cock ring, the constriction adding to the ache, then he lubed himself in a hurry with saliva and slammed Ricky's ass, bottoming him out. "G-gyuv-ah, slow please."
I miss this feeling. I've waited for so long but finally I'll be claimed by Gyuvin once again.
Gyuv rammed like a madman, relentless. "Never taken a dick this big before, hmm?"
"I-i did." It was you, you stupid motherfucker.
"You're such a slut. Was he better? I'm gonna fucking kill the both of you."
"A-aah, Gyuvin, it hurts." The shock collar punished him, sending jolts through his body that made him convulse.
Ricky adjusted eventually, pleasure overwhelming the pain, his body betraying him. He thrust back for deeper impact, colliding with Gyuvin's body.
"Ah, you're killing me, Ricky. I'm close." Gyuv gripped his waist, pinching nipples, kissing him deeply.
Rikcky arched, arms bracing on the back of the sofa, Gyuvin reached out to Ricky's mouth to make out. Their bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with their mingled scents. Their eyes met after the kiss, a fleeting connection—a ghost of the love they once shared.
"Deeper, Qubing-ah, I'm close too." shock. Ricky persevered and pushed through, his pleasure peaking as he nears climax.
Gyuvin stopped abruptly, pulling out with a wet sound that echoed in the room. He grabbed his clothes from the floor, dressing swiftly, his movements detached, mechanical. The door closed behind him, silence echoed in Ricky's soul. Gyuvin left him alone, bound, and more confused than ever.
"What the fuck?" Rik whispered, collapsing onto the sofa, his body aching, mind reeling in the silence until he fell asleep. He wasn't able to cum but somehow he's feeling more content than the discomfort coming from that.
----End of Chapter 1----